Midnight Rising
by Rebel-Angel-Hero
Summary: Grenville is called the Capital of Sin. Luckily, Dash Parr- known as Quickstep- is there to clean up the mess. But a new vigilante has suddenly made his job much harder, and if he's not careful, he'll be caught up in her quest for revenge. T for violence.
1. Prologue: A Death in the Family

**SOOO. I've finally gotten back, after a brief end-of-the-school-year hiatus. And though I promised to get out those sequels to _I'd Rather Be Different_ and _Opposites Attract_, my attention span was not long enough to finish either Chapter One of _IRBD_ or Chapter Two of _OA_. (Instead, I finished a one shot I had on the back burner for quite a while; it's a Narnia fic, and if you'd like to read it, it's here: )  
>[FanFiction url] s/6953147/1/The_Warding_Tree  
>Therefore, you get this. Warning: lately I've been on a bit of a Batman binge, so there's going to be quite a lot of stuff inspired by that. And I'll put out there that I was wrong, and DC is actually as cool as Marvel. There. Happy, Bridgett? (A friend of mine who's obsessed with Batman. Though I always took the Batman side in her Batman vs. Spider-Man debate with our friend Kim, because Spider-Man is a whiny little emo kid, and Batman is a certified badass.) ANYWAYS, I digress. Here you go.<strong>

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><p><strong>Prologue: A Death in the Family<strong>

As the last patron stumbled out of the bar, the two owners of the bar sighed with relief at the end of another busy night. One, a woman, was cleaning several glasses; the other, her husband, was sweeping up the leftovers from a brief fight that had broken out at the end of the night– not an entirely uncommon occurrence.

All these familiar noises could be heard by their young daughter, who was busy shading in pictures in her coloring book. She had been young enough when her parents bought the bar that life there was all she remembered. Of course, she should have been asleep hours before, but she had a bad habit of staying up far past her bedtime. Besides, she didn't go to school, so it wasn't as much of a problem if she didn't wake up early.

The young girl's exceptionally honed ears detected it when the familiar sounds of clean-up stopped. Surprised, she decided to risk her parents' wrath to find out what was happening.

She tiptoed out of her room and peeked around the corner to behold a frightening scene. Her mother was seated at a table in a corner, with a large man pointing a gun at her. Her father was backed up against the bar, with another man standing menacingly in front of him. Two more men, equally large and scary-looking, stood by the door.

"You didn't honestly think that you could just leave and no one would notice?" the man in front of her father was saying. "That's not the way we work."

"We wanted a better life for her!" her mother protested; she was silenced by her guard pressing the muzzle of the gun against her cheek.

"The boss won't be accepting excuses," the first man continued. "You made your choice, and now you'll have to pay for it."

The young girl squeaked as the sounds of two successive gunshots sounded. She whirled back around the corner and ran into her room, collapsing next to the bed. She curled up, pulling her knees into her chest and began to cry, rocking back and forth as she sobbed.

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><p><strong>And right off the bat, you can tell that this story is going to be darker than any of my other fanfics. Truth to tell, this is going to be the darkest story that I've written. But hey, you can't do cute and fluffy all the time, I suppose.<strong>

**Oh, another warning: the chapter length will probably vary, but the chapters are more likely to be shorter than my usual (which is about 1700-2300 words per chapter).**

**As is usual, REVIEW. I love reviews. I'll try to keep the desperate pleading on a minimum this time, though.**

**(Side note: I've just realized that in my author's notes, I talk to my readers kind of as if you've read all of my stories. Just know that I shamelessly beg for reviews in every story, pretty much.)**

**Anyways! Hallelujah for summer break. :D**

**Cheers, loves.**

**~RAH**


	2. Chapter One: Fateful Encounters

****Hey, a new chapter in just two days. I'm so proud of myself. :D Of course, I'd be happier if there was actually someone reading this story. But beggars can't be choosers, I suppose.****

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Fateful Encounters<strong>

_Twelve years later_

Dashiell Parr had no reason to believe that that day would be anything other than normal. The sun was shining, children were playing, and all signs pointed to the day being uneventful.

But knowing Grenville, a city that had more than the usual run of criminals, that was hardly likely. Hence why he always kept his radio tuned to the news. And, in the normal practice of Murphy's Law, he was not to be denied.

_"…We interrupt this broadcast with an important bulletin. We advise citizens to keep away from the Second National Bank on Travis Boulevard. A detour is in effect for a two-block radius surrounding the building. We repeat: citizens are advised…"_

Dash sighed. It was like his dad always said: no matter how many times you saved it, the world always managed to get in trouble again. Grenville was particularly good at that, and not for the first time, he questioned his decision to attend college in a town that had one of the highest crime rates in the nation. Nonetheless, he swung his car over to turn onto Travis Boulevard. He had a sneaking suspicion that his skills were going to be needed.

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><p>It seemed like the entirety of Grenville's police department was gathered outside of the Second National Bank. The air was extremely tense; several calls had been made to try to contact the robbers inside, who had taken bank employees hostage, to no avail.<p>

A huge cloud of dust and debris was kicked up as…_something_ came roaring down Travis Boulevard. But then, Quickstep was known for his rather dramatic entrances. The Grenville Police Department was willing to put up with his theatrics, since he was good at his job.

Dash's costume had changed when he had split from the Incredibles – his family's superhero team – and gone solo. The suit, having of course been made by Edna Mode, retained the red and black, but white had been added, with red making up the main body of the suit, black stripes going up the sides, and a white lightning bolt zigzagging across his chest. Goggles tinted red, using a specialized plastic that was resistant to both high winds and debris, protected his eyes. Having adopted the superhero name of Quickstep, Dash had left Metroville and began to attend college in Grenville, a city that was both good and bad for an aspiring superhero.

Dash took a look at the bank. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked.

Chief Brown, the head of Grenville's police department, stepped over to stand next to him. "We've got about ten robbers in there. They're another one of the Puppetmaster's crews. They've taken four of the employees hostage, mostly secretaries, and they're using the hostages as human shields. They've ordered that we're to have a helicopter waiting on the roof in an hour or they'll start killing hostages, but that's all we've gotten out of them."

Dash nodded. "Right. Can I have one of those shields there?"

Brown was used to Quickstep's sometimes odd requests, so he motioned at one of the police officers to hand over his body shield. "What are you going to do?" he asked of Dash.

Dash positioned the shield on his arm. "This," he replied, then ran full-tilt at the glass doors of the bank – and with his super speed, that was considerably fast.

Dash had thrown the shield aside and bowled over one of the robbers before the others registered the glass shattering. Two more leveled their guns at him, but he, of course, was far too fast. He raced at one, punching him in the face as he went by, then circled back around and swung a kick at the second, catching him in the stomach. As the second went down, wheezing out swears, Dash delivered fist after fist to the first's face and torso, almost faster than the eye could see.

"Shouldn't we be doing something, sir?" asked the police officer now missing his shield.

Chief Brown shook his head. "We'll only get in the way," he said. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to be the one who accidentally shot Quickstep."

Dash threw himself at the next two of the seven robbers remaining. They went down faster than the first three, and he quickly dispatched another. He turned to find the remaining four criminals holding the hostages in front of them as shields.

"Move and we shoot!" threatened the one who seemed to be the leader of the crew. Dash slowly stood back. He was calculating the chances of one of the hostages getting shot if he went for one of the robbers when a section of the ceiling suddenly exploded. Dash ducked as debris came flying towards him.

The robbers also ducked to avoid the flying debris, for a second forgetting about their hostages. One managed to free herself and ran for the door, just barely making it outside. The other three screamed and ran for cover from the remains of the ceiling.

A huge thump, followed by a yell of pain, sounded inside the smoke. Dash peered through the clearing smoke to see a dark figure flipping off of the prone form of one of the robbers to land a kick to a second's throat. It ducked under the swing of a third, then delivered two well-placed hits to pressure points on the third criminal's body; he went down with a cry. The mysterious figure swung a kick around in a crescent, whipping it across the fourth robber's face, then followed with a sweeping high kick from its other leg. By the time the smoke cleared, the newcomer stood amid a tangle of bodies.

Dash was about to say something when he heard a sound behind him. He whirled around to see one of the fallen criminals struggle to his feet, cocking his machine gun. Before Dash could move, three glinting objects went sailing by, winking in the sunlight, and buried themselves in the robber's chest. He fell without a sound, a shocked look on his face.

Dash turned back around to see the mysterious fighter's hand outstretched from throwing the shuriken. "Why did you kill him?" he demanded. "We could have used him!"

Instead of answering, the figure raised its left arm, pointed at the edge of the giant hole in the ceiling. A grappling hook attached to a thick cord shot out, burying itself into the ceiling. The fighter took a running start, launching itself into the air and disappearing into the ceiling.

"Hey!" he called. "Who are you?"

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><p><em>Who indeed<em>, Dash thought later that day. He'd given up reading a half an hour ago, too distracted by the day's events. He'd never encountered the person he had today. He or she must have been some kind of vigilante; what they hoped to accomplish, though, he wasn't at all sure of. The crew from that day had been one of the Puppetmaster's; maybe this vigilante had some kind of grudge against the criminal mastermind.

The Puppetmaster had held the city of Grenville in thrall for the past three generations. Obviously the mantle had been transferred over the years, but thus far, the police had been unable to even identify the mastermind. It wasn't even clear whether the Puppetmaster was a man or a woman, since no sighting had ever been made, either.

He was broken from his thoughts by his cell phone ringing. He got up out of his chair, stretching, and walked over to remove the phone from its charging cord. "Hello?" he answered.

_"Dash?"_

He smiled. "Hey, Violet," he replied to his older sister. "What's up?"

_"Nothing much. Hey, I'm in Grenville tomorrow. I was wondering if we could meet for lunch or something."_

"Sounds great. Where?"

_"Hey, you know the city better than I do. Where do you suggest?"_

He thought about it. "Beatnik Café's got good sandwiches," he offered.

_"Then let's go there. See you tomorrow!"_

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><p><strong>Hey, Violet gets an appearance in the first chapter! She's got a bit part towards the beginning, though really she's a minor character.<strong>

**And here is the first appearance of our mysterious vigilante. She (it is a girl, as I'm sure you gathered from the description) gets a name in Chapter Three.**

**Do correct me if I get facts wrong, or if characters from the movie get to be too OOC. I'll try to make them as IC as I can.**

**Here's where I beg for reviews. They are lovely, guys.**

**Cheers,**

**~RAH**


	3. Chapter Two: Girls at Parties

****Well. Normally I'd give some kind of excuse as to why it took me so long to write chapters, but since I'm on summer vacation, I don't really have one. Just know that this is a plot chapter, and I hate writing plot chapters. :P****

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Girls at Parties<strong>

The Beatnik Café, true to its name, was a sort of counterculture hub. It was rarely populated by anyone over the age of thirty, and was known for being a place where aspiring artists, writers, activists, or what-have-you could work in relative peace. Not that the little coffee shop was quiet, mind you. But it was quaint, and beloved by the youth of Grenville, and Dash liked it in particular.

He was sitting at a little round table. He'd already gotten them both sandwiches, knowing well what his sister liked; he doubted her taste in food had changed that much in the year it had been since they'd seen each other. Violet was off doing "bigger things" now, having entered into the fashion industry under the tutelage of Edna Mode; as such, the Parr family really only got together at the holidays.

He faintly heard the chime of the door opening over the din in the café. He looked over to see his sister entering.

Violet Parr was a young woman who could well be considered "classically beautiful." She had a graceful face that smiled easily, long black hair that swung as she walked, and a tall, slim frame. She'd grown into her looks in high school, and it was a small wonder that she'd been one of the most sought-after girls at the school. Not that she'd ever admit it; though she'd gained confidence with age as well, she was still habitually shy and modest.

Dash stood up so that she could see where he was. Violet and Dash had started to annoy each other less as they got older, especially when Violet had graduated high school and gone off to college; Dash had found, to his surprise, that he missed his sister.

Violet saw him, and walked over, a smile on her face. "Hey, Dash," she greeted him, giving him a hug. "Ooh, you got my favorite!"

"Hey, I can remember some things," he defended as they sat down. "So what's new with you?"

"Oh, plenty," she said. "Life's been really busy lately, but it's tons of fun. I've been learning about the kind of fabric E uses to make super suits. It's pretty fascinating, especially all of the technology that goes into making suits bulletproof, or fireproof, and so on. What about you?"

"Oh, you know, the usual stuff. Work's been kind of boring, but I find ways to break the monotony."

"And how has that been going?" Violet asked knowingly.

"Let's just say that Quickstep is on the top of his game right now. And you?"

"Cleaning up as usual. Crime's been down lately." She took a bite of her sandwich. "Actually," she said, "there was something I wanted to ask you."

"Shoot."

"Are you doing anything tonight?"

Dash raised an eyebrow. "No. Why?"

"I'm in town for a friend's birthday, and she's having a party. I was wondering if you'd go with me."

"Why?"

"Well, it's pretty formal. It's the kind of party you bring a date to."

"And I'm your only option?"

"No," she said, sounding a little offended, standing up as if to leave. "Since I was in town anyways, I thought it might be a good opportunity for us to spend some time together. If you'd rather not –"

"Ah, come on, Vi, I'm sorry, alright? I just didn't think you'd want to take your little brother to a friend's party. I'll come, okay?"

She smiled and sat back down. "Great."

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><p>Dash scowled as he looked at himself in the mirror. He'd wear a tie for his sister, but he drew the line at a sports coat.<p>

A knock sounded at the door. Dash sighed, then walked over to open it. Violet stood there, looking stunning in a deep purple dress.

"Wow, you look nice," she said, appraising her brother. The young man was wearing a dress shirt, tie, and vest, having discarded a jacket. "Shall we?" she offered. "I've got a car downstairs."

"So where are we going, anyways?" Dash asked as they got in the car. "You never said who your friend was."

"Emmaline Reiner," Violet answered. When Dash didn't say anything, she looked over to see her brother gaping at her. "What?"

"Emmaline Reiner? You're friends with _Emmaline Reiner_?"

"Don't act so shocked. Emma and I went to college together. She's way smart. We were in the same year, even though she's three years younger."

"Sorry. It's just pretty surprising."

As they came up to the Reiner mansion, Dash recalled what little he knew about Emmaline Reiner. She was the niece of Carlson Reiner, the head of the family, having been adopted by him after her parents' deaths. Evidently she'd gone to college with Violet, and was pretty brilliant; she didn't seem to be familiar with many people in Grenville. The young woman, about his age, was something of an enigma. She didn't seem to come into the city much, or if she did, it was very discreet.

By the time they came up to the main door, the party seemed to be in full swing. In comparison to the huge house, there didn't seem to be that many people there, though there must have been close to a hundred. Violet found the host of the party fairly quickly. "Emma!" she called.

A young woman with dark auburn hair pulled tightly into a twist looked over. Seeing Violet, she gave a small smile and weaved her way through the crowd.

"Violet," she greeted her, giving the raven-haired girl a hug. "It's been so long. Thank you so much for coming." She looked over at Dash. "And who is this?"

"Oh! Emma, this is my brother, Dash Parr. Dash, this is Emmaline Reiner, my best friend in college."

"How do you do?" Emmaline said softly, shaking Dash's hand. She was very polite and welcoming, but she seemed stiff, and Dash got the feeling that she didn't want to be around so many people – which was odd, considering she'd probably invited all of these guests.

A man with tousled brown hair, perhaps a year older than Violet, came to stand next to Emmaline. "I gather this is the Violet you told me about?" he asked, handing Emmaline a drink and placing an arm around her shoulders.

She smiled at him, the first real smile Dash had seen from her yet. "Yes," she answered. "Harry, this is my good friend Violet Parr, and her brother Dash. Violet, Dash, this is my boyfriend, Harry Grayson. He's a detective working with the police department."

Respective hands were shaken and greetings made. Dash had to be careful not to reveal that he was already quite familiar with Detective Harry Grayson. Dash had often worked alongside Harry, one of the most dedicated members of Grenville's police force, as Quickstep; Harry, of course, would have no idea that the two were one and the same. It was one of the tribulations of being a superhero and maintaining two separate identities.

There was a lull in the conversation. "Violet," Emmaline said suddenly, "would you come with me? There was something I wanted to show you." The two women swept away, leaving Harry and Dash standing there.

Small talk was not enough to close the awkward silence stretching between them, and before long, Harry apologetically took his leave, which Dash did not begrudge him. He disliked mixing his superhero and civilian lives, mainly because of the risk of compromising his identity. But knowing Harry Grayson, even if he did deduce Dash's identity – likely enough, what with Harry's considerable detective skills – he wouldn't reveal it.

Dash decided on finding out if there was anything to eat – he was famished. After that, if he hadn't found Violet yet, he'd see if there was a bar as well. After all, what was the point of being twenty-one if you didn't take advantage of it?

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><p>A couple days later, Dash once again found himself at the Beatnik Café. He'd managed to enjoy himself at the party, chatting up a few girls and munching on some rather good food. Before Violet had left the next day, they'd had a little fun foiling a robbery; they worked together as Quickstep and Ultraviolet so rarely these days that he often forgot how well their family had worked together, and how nice it could be to have someone to work with.<p>

The chime on the door rang brightly as someone entered the café. Out of habit, Dash looked up and, to his surprise, recognized Emmaline Reiner walking in the door. She seemed unsure of herself, like she didn't come there often, or even come into the city often. He looked out the window and saw a fancy-looking car parked on the corner with a person waiting in the driver's seat; he gathered that the car was hers.

She stood in line, in her nice, clean, conservative clothing looking out of place against the more casual youth that frequented the Beatnik. Dash saw that people were looking at her, which seemed to only make her more uncomfortable. She got a coffee and a sandwich quickly and quietly, then looked around to see if there was a place to sit.

Dash decided, in true hero fashion, to save her from her discomfort. He got up and walked over to her. "Emmaline?" he asked.

She looked at him, her face blank for a second before she recognized him. "You're Violet's brother," she said. "Dash, right?"

He nodded to acknowledge that she was right. "Do you want to sit with me?" he asked. "You looked a little lost."

She gave a small, embarrassed smile. "I don't come into the city very often," she admitted. "I suppose I should."

"Always willing to help out a lady," he said, grinning. "So what do you do all day, then?" He realized belatedly how intrusive he was being. "I'm sorry, that was pretty rude."

"No, it's fine," she assured him. "To be honest, I'm mostly occupied with the family business."

This was news to him. "You have a family business?"

She seemed uncomfortable with the subject. "Um…it's varied. A lot of…shipping, mainly. I deal with some of the…public relations."

Her answers were surprisingly evasive, but Dash didn't pursue it; perhaps she didn't really like being a member of the "family business." Maybe it was her uncle's wish, but not hers.

She looked out the window at the car that he presumed to be hers. "I should really get going," she said, standing up. "Business. Thanks for the conversation." She held out a hand for him to shake.

It seemed formal to him, but he complied. "No problem," he answered. "Maybe I'll see you around."

"Maybe," she answered, gathering her coffee and sandwich, and leaving with a nod to him. He watched her leave. If he didn't know that she was in a relationship, he might have asked her out, he mused. She seemed to him to be formal and polite, if a little closed-off, like she didn't connect well with people. She'd probably grown up relatively sheltered, being a member of the Reiner family. Her talk about the family business surprised him; he hadn't realized that the Reiners had a business. But then, not a lot about the Reiner family was known anyways; Emmaline's uncle, Carlson Reiner, was even more enigmatic than her.

If he wanted to know more about her, he decided, he could just go look her up himself. As Quickstep, he had access to the police department's records; in any case, he could just talk to her the next time she came into town. If ever.

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><p>Emmaline sipped her coffee as her car rolled down the drive to the Reiner mansion – her home. She hadn't expected to run into someone she knew when she went into the city. It had been a whim, something to distract her from her work, and she'd chosen the first café she'd seen. Since Violet didn't live in Grenville, she didn't think that her brother would either; to be honest, she'd kind of forgotten about Dash in the days following her lackluster birthday party. Then again, pretty much all of her birthday parties had been lackluster, ever since she'd come to live with her uncle. This time she'd been tempted to just do away with the whole party deal and just go to dinner with Harry, or something, but her uncle had insisted, to keep up appearances. Besides, he had said. She was turning twenty-two. She was a young woman. She should have a social life.<p>

Well, it was his fault that she didn't have a social life. His and her family's. She'd been born into it. She didn't have a choice.

As the car rolled to a stop, she prepared herself for a return to work. She hated her day work – it was excruciatingly boring. But once again, she didn't really have a choice.

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><p><strong>Mm. Cryptic, eh? Emmaline gets explained in later chapters. I have hopes for Chapter Three, so be on the lookout for fun stuff happening.<strong>

**Uber thanks to Rhonda Petrie for being my first (and only, as far as I know) reader and reviewer! Hope I didn't take too long getting this chapter out for ya.**

**As always, I love seeing reviews. So bring em on!**

**Happy Independence Day, everyone! And if you're not American, then I guess you can take this as an excuse to party. God knows we do. ;D**

**Cheers!**

**~RAH**


	4. Chapter Three: Call Me Nightshade

****Sooooo. Shiny new chapter! Yay! And in a reasonable amount of time too. You should be so proud of me.****

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: Call Me Nightshade<strong>

It was a dreary morning, with gray, overcast skies and a light mist in the air, not quite fog. Emmaline sat at the window seat of her room, looking out the window, her mood of a similar tone as the weather.

A knock sounded at the door. "Come in," she said without much feeling in her voice.

In stepped a woman old enough to be her mother, with dark hair going gray and a neat suit, carrying a tray of coffee, muffins, and fruit.

"Good morning, ma'am," the woman said crisply.

"Today is anything but good, Beverly," Emmaline answered dispassionately.

"I beg your pardon, ma'am?" Beverly said, a note of confusion in her voice. "The day's only just started."

Emmaline turned to face the older woman. "Do you know day it is today, Beverly?" she asked quietly.

Recognition flew across Beverly's face. "Yes, of course, ma'am," she answered. "The fifteenth of November."

Emmaline nodded. "And that is never a good day," she said sorrowfully.

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><p>The cemetery was on the outskirts of Grenville. Emmaline had never liked that; it always seemed to her that it was like the dead were being pushed aside to be forgotten.<p>

The groundskeepers that she passed nodded in hello. She was a frequent visitor, and they knew that she knew her way.

She stopped at a large family plot. Generations of Reiners had been buried here, since her great-great-grandfather had set up shop in what was then a tiny little town. But it wasn't her forefathers that she was interested in. It was one of the more recent graves that she was headed to.

She stopped in front of a headstone. It was clean, gray marble, with an inscription that read:

_Lucas & Maria Reiner_

_1962-2003 1964-2003_

_Forever in our hearts_

Emmaline pulled her coat around her, shivering; the temperature had dropped a little as a cloud bank had rolled in. She was dressed in blacks and grays, with only a white scarf; she realized, suddenly, that blacks and grays were really all she wore.

"I miss you both," she whispered. "I wish we could get back the time that was stolen from us. But I promise you that I won't rest until I make this right." She gently placed a fresh bouquet of flowers in front of the headstone, stood silently for a minute, then left.

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><p><em>Sometimes I really hate this job<em>, Dash thought as he was thrown into a wall. The guy that had thrown him was no small spring chicken. But he supposed it served him right for being such an insufferable do-gooder.

"I could have gone and been in the Olympics," he muttered as he picked himself. "I could have done anything speed-related that I wanted. I just _had_ to go be a superhero."

He didn't really mind it that much. But the times when he got his ass handed to him were not the high points of his day.

_Alright, time to get down to business_, he thought, and bowled over the guy who had thrown him, giving him a very good reason to stay on the ground – namely, several punches to the face.

Suddenly there was the sound of fighting behind him, and Dash had a sneaking suspicion that he knew who the newcomer was. Sure enough, when he turned around, he saw the same mysterious vigilante from the week before basically beating the crap out of two of the thieves. It jumped in the air, making an impressive mid-air splits that delivered a boot to the face of either criminal. Another thief pointed a gun at it, but the fighter darted out of the path of any bullets, drawing two short swords and slicing off the muzzle of the gun with a swift stroke. It delivered a knee to the criminal's chest, knocking him to the ground. With the last of the thieves having been dealt with by Dash, the vigilante sheathed the swords, the danger having passed.

"So, are you some new super?" Dash asked to stall…whoever it was. He was determined to find out who this person was.

The figure turned its head to him. A dark hood shadowed most of its face, which was kind of creepy – Dash couldn't see his or her face. "No," the fighter said in a low, but distinctly female voice. "I'm no superhero."

"Then are you someone's ex-sidekick? Or do you just have a thing against crime?"

"No. I couldn't care less about most criminals."

"Then you've got a grudge against the Puppetmaster?" he asked. She stiffened.

"It's not that hard to figure out. I'd never seen you before a week ago, and trust me, I'd have heard of you, and you've only shown up when the crew belongs to the Puppetmaster."

"My goals are my own business," she said sharply, almost like a warning. "And I don't want anyone interfering."

He gave her a scrutinizing look. "Who are you?" he asked.

She paused. "Call me…Nightshade," she replied. She suddenly ran past Dash, heading for the back door of the shop they'd just defended. He smiled. "Sorry, you're not getting away from me that easily," he called. "I highly doubt you can run faster than me."

But when he came out into the alley that was behind the shop, he didn't see anyone. He looked around, trying to find Nightshade. He heard a scraping sound above him, and looked up to see her climbing up the wall, using the brick inlays jutting out underneath the windows as handholds.

"Alright, that's impressive, I'll give you that," Dash admitted. He zipped around the building to the street side as the figure scrambled onto the roof. The shop was against the street– where did this person think she was going?

A flash of movement caught his eye. He looked up just in time to see her make an impossible jump from the rooftop to the one adjacent to it – over a gap of at least fifteen feet. He gaped. "Okay, that's _really_ impressive," he said to himself. _Who _is_ this girl?_ he asked himself.

"Well, one way to find out," he decided aloud. He zipped back into the building and up the side stairwell to the roof. He saw Nightshade already two rooftops away, then looked at the gap in front of him. Suddenly fifteen feet seemed more like thirty.

"Gonna have to be careful about this," he sighed, then zipped across the roof, taking the jump with a running start. His heart dropped to his stomach as he saw the ground four stories below him – it was not a comforting sight. He hit the concrete hard, but managed to roll and take most of the brunt of the landing on his shoulder. As he got back to his feet, he winced and could tell that his shoulder was going to be wondrously black and blue the next day.

He raced across rooftops, following Nightshade until he saw her shoot one of her grappling hooks and swing off of a rooftop and around a building. He got over as fast as he could – no small feat – but by the time he reached the rooftop she'd disappeared from, he couldn't see any sign of her, on the ground or on any of the rooftops.

He huffed in displeasure. This…Nightshade…was good. _Really_ good. But he had a feeling he'd see her again. Judging by her reaction to his question, she definitely was gunning for the Puppetmaster. Now he was along for the ride, too.

Something else was bugging him. She hadn't spoken at their first encounter, so then he'd had nothing to compare it against. But after hearing her speak, her voice sounded oddly familiar. Like someone he'd heard before trying to alter their voice. For a woman, the voice was unusually low, like she'd been forcing it lower.

It hit him like a lightning bolt. When he thought about it, Nightshade's voice, although lower, sounded exactly like the voice of Emmaline Reiner. _What on earth would _she_ be doing, running around on rooftops and beating criminals to a pulp?_ Then another realization hit him. He knew that Nightshade was after the Puppetmaster. If what he suspected was true, then that meant that Emmaline was after the Puppetmaster. But why? What grudge did she have against Grenville's most notorious criminal?

He knew one place where he could find out. Having access to the police department's resources was definitely a perk of being a superhero.

* * *

><p>"Here," Chief Brown said, directing Dash to his computer. "Everything you need to know about the Puppetmaster and this Nightshade will be in there. Though I'll warn you, we know next to nothing about your mysterious friend. You're certain she's a woman?"<p>

"Positive."

"Well, that's one more thing to add about her," Brown sighed. "Don't hang out here too late."

"I won't," Dash promised, then turned to the computer. He brought up the files on Nightshade first. Brown was right – the police knew next to nothing about her. All that was on here was a grainy photo taken from a security camera and a rough description of her taken from Dash himself.

Next he turned to the Puppetmaster. A similarly elusive figure, Dash didn't expect to find much more here either.

He was surprised to find files upon files on the Puppetmaster. The police obviously knew more than they were letting on. What was in the files shocked him even more.

Contrary to Dash's knowledge, the police knew exactly who the Puppetmaster was: Carlson Reiner. Emmaline's uncle. The mantle of the Puppetmaster had been held by the head of the Reiner family for three generations, when the criminal had first arisen during the First World War, and Carlson Reiner had come into it upon the death of his father. The entire Reiner family was a criminal machine, with thieves, thugs, killers, you name it – anything that the Puppetmaster needed. However, they also had the wealth and weight to make sure that nothing could be brought against them in a criminal trial.

Emmaline's mention of the "family business" now made sense, as did her reluctance to talk about it. Her word choice had been clever: "varied" business, mainly "shipping." The Puppetmaster mainly stole and traded on the black market. He had no idea what her talk of dealing in "public relations" meant, though.

Now he was almost sure that Emmaline was Nightshade. Her connection to Carlson Reiner made it all the more likely. He just wondered what he'd done to his niece that had made her so determined to piss him off like this.

_Only one way to find out_, he thought. He had a feeling that the Puppetmaster's crews were going to be seeing a lot more of Quickstep in the coming days.

* * *

><p><strong>Emmaline's dialogue at the beginning with Beverly (who is the female equivalent of a butler...the term for which is...? I want to say housekeeper) was stolen from <em>Lara Croft: Tomb Raider<em>, yes.**

**In other words, we now have a name to our mysterious vigilante. And a suspicion as to who she really is! But I suppose it's somewhat cliche, the mysterious new acquaintance being suspected of being the bad guy, or rather anti-hero, because there's no clear bad guy in this story. And that's why it's interesting.**

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW**

**Cheers,**

**~RAH**


	5. Chapter Four: Surprises and Revelations

****Shiny new chapter in a not-so-reasonable amount of time. :| Hmm. Sorry 'bout that.****

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: Surprises and Revelations<strong>

She had never been one to read comic books as a child – that was for boys. She played with toys, losing herself in her own girlish fantasies, and learned the skills her parents taught her. But superheroes had never really caught her interest.

Nonetheless, Nightshade couldn't help but feel like a figure out of comic books as she perched atop one of Grenville's many tall buildings. She supposed the cape had something to do with it.

She was waiting, like she always did. It amused her to know how the Puppetmaster squirmed over how she got her information. He'd never suspect who her source was, not someone who he trusted explicitly.

Soon enough, what she had been waiting for began. An unmarked van, one of the many in the Puppetmaster's arsenal, pulled up in front of the jewelry store. The Puppetmaster had chosen well – he could certainly get a lot of money off of the black market from his haul tonight. Of course, if she had anything to say about it, those pathetic excuses for criminals that he employed wouldn't even get to touch the merchandise they were about to steal.

Sudden movement far to her left caught her eye. She glanced over to see Quickstep speeding down Lord Street, going straight for the jewelry store. Her eyes narrowed. Quickstep was becoming an increasingly frequent occurrence whenever she did her work. It was annoying. Sure, in the short run their goals were the same – stopping these criminals – but as had been proven in the last two weeks, he was starting to get curious, although most of the time she'd managed to avoid him. And he'd called her out on her grudge against the Puppetmaster. It might only be a matter of time until he started to work out other things as well – like who she really was. But she'd been careful, like she'd been trained. There was no way he could figure that out.

She hoped.

* * *

><p>Dash grinned as he barreled down Lord Street. <em>Always nice to get in some exercise<em>, he thought to himself.

He'd taken to responding to any and all crimes related to the Puppetmaster. He wanted to find out more about Nightshade, and see if his suspicions were right. He didn't want to start accusing Emmaline Reiner of anything if he wasn't sure he was correct. That would put a definite damper on their relationship. If you could call two meetings a relationship, that is.

He frankly had no idea why he was so interested in her. Maybe it was the mystery. She certainly was pretty, and from what Violet had told him, fairly smart as well. _Not to mention taken_, he reminded himself. _She's dating Harry Grayson, remember?_

He pulled himself from his thoughts as he crashed through the glass door of the jewelry store about to be robbed. He'd gotten an anonymous tip about one of the Puppetmaster's crews robbing this store, so of course he'd gone to check it out. And if he was lucky, Nightshade would be here any minute.

Of course, this was a hope. He'd told himself that it was stupid to bank his chances of victory on an appearance that was not at all assured, but he had to find out who she was. It was driving him crazy.

This time it seemed like the Puppetmaster had gone for brawn rather than brains – the guys in this crew were huge. Perhaps he thought that they'd be more likely to have a chance against Quickstep and, more importantly, Nightshade. A hit had recently been placed on the mysterious vigilante – the Puppetmaster had obviously gotten tired of her interfering in his business.

One of the thugs leveled his automatic rifle at Dash. He smirked. Like they'd ever catch him with bullets. Besides, his super suit was bulletproof – Violet herself had made sure of that. He neatly dodged the lead being spat out at him, running low to the ground before springing up and delivering a punch to the man's face, quickly knocking the gun out of his hands in the next strike. "Twenty rounds a second and you were still too slow," he taunted, kicking the man in the gut to make sure he stayed down. "Serves you right for trying to shoot a speedster."

A human-sized section of the ceiling exploded into chips of drywall and plaster as a dark shape fell through the hole to land elegantly on the ground. Dash smiled to himself. She did seem to have a flair for dramatic entrances.

Nightshade leapt at one of the criminals as if to jump over him, but grabbed his shoulders and spun him around, her legs flying out to catch two approaching thugs in the head. She fell back to the ground, taking the man she'd grabbed hold of with her and slamming his face into the ground. She ducked under the swing of another and flicked his arms away from her, then struck his chest, pushing him hard to the ground. She hissed and cradled her hand against her chest, as if she'd hurt it.

Dash saw the last criminal pull out his gun before she did. He zipped over, sliding and taking out the man's legs, but not before he clipped off a shot that hit Nightshade cleanly in her face. Her head snapped back and she fell backwards, and didn't get up.

Dash knocked his opponent unconscious, then ran over to Nightshade. Her hood had fallen back, revealing a mask similar to his on her face. There was a dent in the mask where it covered the bridge of her nose – where the bullet had hit. It was sheer luck that the bullet happened to hit the only part of her face that was covered by bulletproof material. He lifted the mask off and brushed back her hood. He wasn't surprised when he saw Emmaline Reiner's face underneath. He was both excited and disappointed to find that his suspicions had been correct.

He tied up the thieves, leaving them for the police whose sirens he could already hear coming. Then he walked over and gathered Emmaline into his arms, picking up her mask as well, and took the back exit out of the store.

* * *

><p>Emmaline groaned and shifted. Her head hurt more than the first time she'd gotten hung over, and that was saying something. Her eyes flickered open.<p>

She shot upright. Wherever she was, she didn't recognize it. The walls were a neutral beige-ish color, covered in an array of band and movie posters, newspaper and magazine articles, and photos. She looked down at herself. She was still dressed in her Nightshade outfit, although her gloves and wristlets, which carried many of her gadgets, had been removed, and her mask was also missing. Her left hand throbbed from where she'd broken it hitting that criminal wrong.

She took a second, more thorough look at her surroundings. The room bore the unmistakable signs of being inhabited by either a college student or a recent college graduate. The state of the place spoke to the owner's price range. She peered at a few of the photos. One was of a blonde young man holding up a trophy in front of a running track. Next to it was one of the same young man with a dark-haired girl who looked a lot like him.

Her eyes widened and she recoiled when she recognized the girl – it was Violet Parr. And the boy was her brother, Dash, which meant she must be in Dash's house…but why would she be in Dash's house? And in her Nightshade clothes? Unless…

"You're up, I see," a voice said from the doorway. She whipped her head around, quickly regretting it as her head began to pound again. Dash stood there, in a plain T-shirt and jeans.

"You're Quickstep," she said, changing the subject. He nodded. "And you're Nightshade," he replied. She didn't nod or shake her head, though her cheeks colored a little.

"Take this," he told her, sitting down on the side of the bed she was on, handing her an icepack. She took it gratefully and pressed it against her left hand.

"So, care to explain yourself?" he asked.

"No, not really," she shot back.

"Well, you're out of luck, because I locked the front door and all the windows, and I can certainly catch you wherever you run in this flat. I want answers."

She gave a frustrated sigh. "You're infuriating," she muttered.

He laughed. "So my sister tells me." He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Fine. But it's a long story."

"I've got plenty of time."

She sighed again. "Ever since my great-grandfather decided he'd try his hand at smuggling, my family has been in the criminal business. It's actually how my parents met. My uncle was the oldest, so he was going to inherit the title of Puppetmaster and being in charge of the whole family operation. This left his younger brother, my father, with a little more freedom in what he wanted to do – within the family business, of course. My mother was one of Grenville's best thieves. She could crack a lock faster than anyone in the city, and she'd never been even seen by the police or the people she robbed. My father hired her for a job, and as they say, the rest is history. They got married a year or so later, and before long, they had me. I guess that's when they had a change of heart. They didn't want me growing up to be a criminal. So they ran, as fast and as far as they could, because they knew that leaving was not an acceptable option in our family. We stayed away for about seven or eight years, till I was ten. But even though they didn't want me to be a criminal, they couldn't help themselves. My mother trained me to have all of her agility, all of her strength, and all of her attention to detail. My father taught me everything he knew about fighting. By the time I was nine years old, I could probably kill a man with my bare hands, rob him and his house blind, and not leave a single trace, all without triggering a security alarm. I was the perfect weapon, the perfect addition to the Reiner family, and my uncle knew it.

"When they left, my parents changed our names. I spent most of my childhood thinking that my name was Emily Root, daughter of Lewis and Michelle Root. They were very thorough when they changed our identities, which is probably why it took my uncle so long to find us. He sent a bunch of thugs to kill my parents. Of course, that's not what the police report said – according to the police, and my uncle, my parents had tragically died in a robbery gone wrong, which was exactly what it looked like. I was only ten, so I swallowed that story, and I came back to Grenville, becoming Emmaline Reiner once again, my uncle's poor orphaned ward. I was everything he wanted, and for almost twelve years, I did everything he wanted me to do without ever questioning what really happened the night my parents were killed.

"A couple months ago, I started doing some digging. I don't know what prompted me, but I found out the truth. I knew that my uncle had ordered my parents killed. I knew that he had spared me because of the value I presented to the family business. And I knew then that I'd stop at nothing to bring him down."

Her hands were in her lap, the icepack – now starting to warm up – held limply against her injured hand. She looked up at Dash.

"That's some story," he said.

"Now you know. Can I go?"

"Here." He took her left hand and wrapped it up. "So you don't hurt it again," he told her.

She stared at him. "Why are you helping me?" she demanded.

"Well, you're trying to take down the Puppetmaster. So in a way, we're on the same side."

She stood up suddenly, regretting it a little as her head swam briefly. "You don't understand," she said vehemently. "We're not on the same side. You're one of the 'good guys.' You take down criminals. I'm part of the criminal underworld, and I have been for more than half of my life. I don't want to stop crime. I just want my uncle's head, and that's _all_ I want."

"So you're planning to kill him?" he asked.

She hesitated. "Yes," she said frankly at last. "I'm going to kill him, or go down trying. Your end goal and mine are not the same here, Dash."

"What will you do after?"

She recoiled a little, surprised by his question. "What?"

"After you kill your uncle. What do you plan on doing? Take over the role of the Puppetmaster?"

"No," she said with a scowl. "I hate the Reiner family. I had a normal life – well, mostly normal – when my parents and I were hiding from them. The Reiners killed my parents. They took away everything that was important, everything that was good in my life, and they trapped me into this life where I do whatever my uncle wants me to – even if it means killing someone. Do you think I want that? To be his…his _weapon_? They're not my family. _He's_ not my family." She sighed. "I don't know what I'll do. Probably just disappear. Find something else to do with my life." She walked to the door, but stopped there.

"Dash…as much as I appreciate what you've done for me, this can't continue," she told him. "I am going to try to kill my uncle. And while I don't like hurting people more than necessary, I will not stop if anyone gets in my way, whether they be the police, my family, or you."

"I know," he said. He had figured out already that Emmaline was not a woman who easily gave up. "I guess I hoped we could still be friends."

She gave a short, hollow laugh that would have been a snort from a less refined person. "I wish we could. But I don't see that happening." She paused. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For helping me. If you hadn't taken me away from the store, either the police or my uncle would have found me, and then I'd be in deep trouble." She left the room.

"Your gloves and mask are on the table," he called after her. He heard her grab them, then heard the door close quietly a moment later.

* * *

><p><strong>And at last the identity of Nightshade is revealed. Hopefully I didn't make it too obvious.<strong>

**I wasn't originally going to make that beginning section in Nightshade's POV (because of course she's Emmaline), but since I hadn't already made the big reveal, I couldn't do it in Emmaline's POV, so...you ended up with that. Sorry if it's a little weird. Though now that I think about it, it might have created suitable confusion so that Nightshade's identity was no longer so obvious. Hmm. *strokes moustache thoughtfully, or I would if I actually had a moustache***

**Hopefully the story isn't going too quickly. The other story that I'm publishing, on the other hand, is MUCH MUCH longer than this one. Including the prologue and epilogue, this is going to be eight chapters, tops. But never fear! There shall be a sequel, and hopefully it will be posted fairly quickly (unlike my other sequels...sigh...).**

**Reviews are love!**

**Cheers,**

**~RAH**


	6. Chapter Five: A Call for Vengeance

****And as it turns out, posting that preview was completely unnecessary, since I finished the chapter about ten minutes later. ^_^' Oh well. Enjoy! I apologize for taking so long.****

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><p><strong>Chapter Five: A Call for Vengeance<strong>

"She did what? _What?_"

It was not a good day to be in the presence of Carlson Reiner. He had the same dark auburn hair as his niece, though it was much shorter, and in this case much more unkempt. His eyes were cold and gray, and there were lines on his face that made him look much older than he was; his face, at that moment, was contorted in anger.

"Apparently half of your storehouses by the docks have been destroyed," said a blonde woman smartly dressed in a light gray suit. She was a second cousin of Emmaline's named Valerie, and was Carlson Reiner's – and the Puppetmaster's – direct assistant. Emmaline herself, who normally would have been present at such a meeting, had been called away by some urgent business relating to an upcoming shipment. Beyond Valerie, there was the usual contingent of guards and lieutenants gathered as well.

"We believe it was this person calling herself 'Nightshade,'" continued Valerie. "Before, she seemed to be just stopping crews and either leaving the payloads to the police or taking them for herself. Now she's just…destroying them."

Reiner leaned back in his chair, pressing his fingertips together as he composed himself. "Perhaps my last request was too mired in subtlety," he said. "I want this woman dead. I mean _really dead_. Her head mounted on my wall kind of dead!"

"Understood," Valerie said emotionlessly. She had learned a long time ago that it was unwise to anger Reiner further when he was in one of his moods. "Due to her recent attacks, we took several additional precautions, but none of them seemed to deter her. Our search for a leak is still ongoing."

"And you've still got nothing?" he demanded incredulously. "What the hell do I pay you for?"

"Due to the extent of this Nightshade's knowledge, we've eliminated all but the highest members in the family from suspicion," Valerie reported. "It shouldn't take much longer."

"Well, when you _do_ find the rat, bring 'em to me," Reiner ordered. "I'd like to deal with him myself."

"Understood." Valerie was about to say something else, but suddenly a red dot appeared on her chest, like that of a laser sight. She gasped, and darted to the side – an unnecessary move, as the dot moved away from her of its own accord. It settled on the table in front of Reiner, who scooted away from it. There was a crash as something came through the window behind Reiner, and then that something buried itself into the table where the red dot had been. It seemed like a cross bolt, but shorter and fatter. A high-pitched whine emitted from it, then it exploded into smoke, obscuring the room.

Reiner coughed as his visibility was yanked away. He heard another, larger crash, behind him – the sound of the window being completely shattered – then thumps and yells – the sounds of people being beat up and knocked to the ground. He heard a shriek from Valerie, but before he could do anything, the back of his head exploded in pain as someone pistol-whipped him to the ground. He collapsed with a yell, and then someone grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him up.

He was about to say something, but the muzzle of a gun being pressed to his forehead shut him up. "You be as quiet as possible, or I'll put one in your gut first," a menacing, growling voice told him. The smoke was beginning to clear away, and the figure threatening him became clearer.

This was the Nightshade that had been terrorizing his operation for weeks. She wasn't as tall or large as he'd expected – in fact, she was rather small. But her muscles were lean and well-defined by the body suit she wore. Her face was obscured by both the clearing smoke and a hood worn low, casting her face into shadow.

"Listen to me, you scumbag," Nightshade told him. "I have an ultimatum for you, and I suggest you follow it. You are going to shut down your little 'family business' and turn yourself into me, or I swear to God I will kill every single person in your employ down to the last cleaning lady. I've bought myself a little insurance." She dropped him to the ground, keeping her gun trained on his head, and viciously dug her foot into his hip, holding him down. She pulled out what looked like a picture and dropped it onto his chest. "Take a look," she told him.

Reiner picked up the photo. It showed him five people he knew very well. They were four of his best enforcers and thieves, accompanied by the only lieutenant who hadn't been invited to the meeting (as it was out of her purview). They were all bound and gagged, and the lieutenant was holding a copy of the day's newspaper. Nightshade had chosen well: she'd kidnapped five of his best and favorite people.

"Proof that I have them alive," she said. "But they won't stay that way for long. If you don't come _alone_ to the warehouse I've specified by sunset – the address is on the back – I will kill one hostage every two hours, which gives you about…twelve hours to do as I say."

"And if I don't?" Reiner asked, daring to speak for the first time.

He could see her smile grimly. "Then I follow up on my threat to kill every person in your employ. I know your organization, and I know you, Reiner. Do you really want to let your entire family die? Think about it. Oh, and the police know about this little plan, so if you don't comply? I'm sure they'll find ways to make you. They don't really like it when people get killed." She gave him a vindictive kick to the stomach, then stepped away. "See you later," she taunted, then disappeared.

* * *

><p>The police station was the busiest it had been in a very long while. Nightshade's attack on Carlson Reiner's house and the ultimatum she had delivered had sent almost every member of the force into action. Chief Brown had placed Harry Grayson in charge of finding Nightshade, which made Dash nervous – Harry was hunting his own girlfriend.<p>

"We tried to convince Reiner to comply with Nightshade's demands, at least going to the warehouse," Brown was saying. "At first he denied even being the Puppetmaster –" By now the whole department knew the truth about the Reiner family, a revelation that had no doubt shocked Harry. "– but when we told him we knew, he gave up the charade. He won't do what Nightshade wants. He thinks she's bluffing."

Brown pointed at the picture of Nightshade's five hostages. "Nightshade gave her ultimatum to Reiner half an hour ago. That gives us ninety minutes before she starts killing hostages. We need to find this woman and bring her in. The hostages' safety is paramount. We don't want anyone getting killed, even if they are criminals."

"What should we do if we encounter Nightshade, sir?" an officer – probably a rookie – asked.

"If at all possible, try to take her down with minimal force," Brown answered. "But if you must, without endangering the hostages…take her out."

Dash's face didn't change, but inside, his heart dropped.

* * *

><p>The search of the warehouse that Nightshade had specified didn't turn up anything. It was completely clean – nothing and no one there. Dash hadn't had expected to find the hostages or Nightshade, but they were still stuck at square one, and they had twenty minutes until she said she would kill the first hostage.<p>

Harry set up a perimeter around the warehouse. If Nightshade wasn't there, that meant that she would have to come there, or have some way of knowing if Reiner showed up. Though they'd searched the place, no sort of surveillance equipment or cameras could be seen, which meant either Nightshade had hidden her equipment very well, or she had another way of finding out if Reiner caved. In the meantime, they returned to the police station to try and find any other leads.

There was an unpleasant surprise waiting for them. A crime scene had been set up around the entrance to the police station, where there was a body bound and slumped against a wall, a bullet hole dead center in his forehead. Pinned to his shirt was a note reading _Time to show up, Reiner_.

* * *

><p>There was no avoiding it now: Nightshade was most definitely <em>not<em> bluffing, and they had less than two hours until she killed another hostage. Reiner had no choice but to give in to the police's demands that he go to the warehouse. He was wired, with a SWAT team and several police officers stationed around the warehouse, but nonetheless, he insisted on bringing two of his bodyguards.

Reiner stepped inside the warehouse, looking around with a mix of suspicion and fear. He faintly heard a clicking sound, like a switch being flipped, before the door shut and he was plunged into darkness. He heard the same sound again, then thumps as the bodyguards fell to the ground. He felt the cold bite of a knife against his neck and a body pressed against his own.

"I told you to come alone," Nightshade hissed. "Don't worry, I didn't kill them – your goons. But you and I are taking a little trip. By now the police will have realized that I've interfered with their equipment, and they'll be coming any moment – but we'll be long gone by then."

As soon as the signal from Reiner's wire had gone dead, Harry had sent in the SWAT team. As Dash had more-than-half expected, Reiner and Nightshade were gone, and his bodyguards were out cold.

"Why didn't she kill them?" Harry wanted to know. "She's shown she isn't afraid to kill."

"It wasn't necessary," Dash surmised. "She didn't need to kill them. I don't think she's killing randomly. She's got some kind of plan here."

He looked around the warehouse. There was nothing there to indicate where Nightshade might have gone, but he had a sinking feeling that he knew anyways.

"Detective," he said, getting Harry's attention, "I think I know where she went. Don't ask me how, but I'll show you where."

* * *

><p><strong>Kind of a short chapter. I apologize if the transitions were awkward, but this chapter was not fun to write. It was basically a plot chapter, and if you've read any of my other fics, you'll know just how much I <em>hate<em> plot chapters.**

**School starts on Monday. T_T Save me.**

**Review, please!**

**Cheers,**

**~RAH**


	7. Chapter Six: I Wish I Could

****Umph. This chapter took a while. Hopefully it satisfies!****

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><p><strong>Chapter Six: I Wish I Could<strong>

There were still the last vestiges of that post-sundown light when Dash arrived at the cemetery. The police hung back at Harry's order, as per Dash's request for a few minutes. He only hoped that he might be able to talk Emmaline out of what she was about to do.

He threaded his way through headstones, heading for where the groundskeepers had said that the Reiner family plot was. Upon coming to it, he was unfortunately rewarded by the sight of two figures, one standing, one appearing to be kneeling, by a particular headstone. He sped over.

"Nightshade!" he called, in case the police could hear him. As he came close, he could see the figures more clearly. The one kneeling was Carlson Reiner, beaten, gagged, and tied up. The one standing was his niece in her full Nightshade garb, but with the mask and hood removed, so that her auburn hair spilled out and her face was clearly visible – probably so that her uncle would know who killed him.

"Don't try and stop me, Dash," she warned him.

He disregarded monikers as well. "Emmaline, don't do this," he said. "I know what he did –"

"No, you don't!" she yelled, suddenly angry. "You don't know at all. You superheroes are all the same. You all probably came from lovey-dovey, well-adjusted, normal families. My family wasn't normal or well-adjusted, but my parents loved me, and I loved them. Our life was _good_. And _this_ –" She gave her uncle a vicious kick in the stomach, making him bend over further and let out a muffled yell of pain. "– this _bastard_ took that away! How could you _ever_ know the hell I've gone through? You've never seen your parents killed before your very eyes!" She paused for a breath, breathing hard in her passion. "Give me one good reason, Dash. _One_ good reason why this murdering, miserable piece of scum-sucking _shit_ should live!"

"I don't have one," he said simply. "You're right. I can't begin to imagine what he's done to you. But killing him won't solve anything, Emmaline. You'll just turn into a murderer like him. Tell the police what you know. Let them arrest him and give him what he deserves."

She gave him a wry smile. "I wish I could, Dash," she said, much quieter. "But that's just not good enough." She cocked the gun that she was holding and pointed it squarely at Reiner's head, her finger beginning to squeeze on the trigger.

Dash, of course, was faster. He ran at her, knocking her over so that her shot went wild. He knocked the gun out of her hand and held her arm tightly against the ground. "Don't do this, Emmaline!" he yelled.

"No!" she almost screamed. "He – will – _die_!" She head-butted Dash to make him roll away from her, then pulled out a second gun and fired.

Dash watched in almost fascinated horror as Carlson Reiner's body slumped to the ground, a bullet hole dead center in his forehead. He looked back at Emmaline, who was breathing hard and staring at her uncle's body with an unreadable expression – maybe shock, maybe dismay, maybe vindication. She pushed herself to her feet, wincing as she felt where Dash and the ground had hit her.

As Dash got to his feet himself, he heard the sounds of the police closing in – they'd probably reacted to the gunshots. He looked at Emmaline again, but she made no move to escape, only kept staring at Reiner.

"Freeze!" Dash heard Harry yell. Then a murmur ran through the police, and he looked up to see Harry staring at Emmaline in shock.

"Emma?" he whispered, unable to believe what he was seeing. Her enigmatic expression twisted into one of regret. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said softly, then – almost as quick as Dash – pulled out a smoke bomb and threw it at the detective's feet. The scene exploded in smoke, and Dash heard scuffling sounds, then the sound of running feet. As the police coughed in the smoke and yelled orders, he could hear the sound of a motorcycle starting, then roaring away.

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><p>Carlson Reiner's death was not marked by any kind of pomp and circumstance. The police chose not to disclose his identity as the Puppetmaster, and left it to what was left of his family – many had already skipped town – to deal with his estate. Emmaline was his heir and executor, but since she was nowhere to be found since the showdown at the cemetery, it was left to Valerie.<p>

Dash had told Chief Brown everything Emmaline had told him about her family. Upon this prompting, he had reopened the case of the murders of Lewis and Michelle Root. It wasn't hard to match their pictures to those of Lucas and Maria Reiner. With a little of further investigating, and some collaboration with the local police, it was quickly found that Carlson Reiner had been behind the deaths of his brother and sister-in-law.

Regardless of this revelation, Emmaline Reiner, aka Nightshade, was currently Grenville's most wanted citizen. She had dropped completely off of the map; the last person to see her had been her housekeeper, Beverly Shills, shortly after she'd escaped from the cemetery. Beverly had stated simply that Emmaline had returned to the Reiner mansion briefly to collect a few things and make her goodbyes to Beverly, who had been a source of comfort and a mother-figure to the young woman after the loss of her parents.

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><p><em>The mansion was so…<em>empty_. Beverly was used to lots of people milling about. She had no illusions about what the Reiner family did. She would have quit long ago, except that shortly after she had taken the empty post of housekeeper, Carlson Reiner had brought his young niece, Emmaline, to live at the mansion. The girl, only ten, maybe eleven years old, had been sad and frightened, and Beverly had decided to stay on, if only to help the child. What resulted was a twelve-year-long mother-daughter-like friendship._

_Beverly had been surprised, giving the vacated state of the mansion, to find Emmaline in her room upstairs. She was gathering a few things into a bag; there was a larger duffle bag by the door._

_Emmaline looked up as Beverly entered, and there was a look of guilt on her face. Beverly knew what Emmaline's part in the "family business" was, and despite Emmaline's endeavors to the contrary, she knew that Emmaline was Nightshade. Given that she had just heard on the news that her employer had been murdered in front of the graves of his brother and sister-in-law, she surmised what had happened._

_"You don't need to tell me anything, ma'am," she told Emmaline, who started with surprise; she hadn't realized just how much Beverly knew._

_"Then you know I can't stay here," Emmaline said, almost apologetically. "They'll be coming for me soon. I have to go."_

_"I know," Beverly said simply. "I have known for a while what you've been up to, Miss Emmaline. I do not blame you – Carlson Reiner did many horrible things in his life. I only hope that you've gotten what you wanted, ma'am."_

_Emmaline looked out the window; the sky was a mid-afternoon gray, the beginnings of a storm gathering. "I got what I was looking for," she said slowly. "But I don't know anymore if it's what I wanted." She turned her attention back to what she was doing, and closed the bag she had been filling, snapping it shut with finality. She walked over to Beverly. "Thank you for everything, Beverly," she said with feeling. "You've done so much for me all these years. I'll never be able to repay you."_

_"Just…please be happy, Miss Emmaline," Beverly told her. "And try to write."_

_Emmaline smiled and gave a sound that would have been a snort in a less dignified person. "I'll try," she promised, and hugged the older woman tightly. Beverly hugged back just as strongly, trying to convey all the love and other complicated emotions she felt for the young woman._

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><p>Harry Grayson hadn't shown up at work much since the graveyard debacle. Chief Brown had granted him a few days off, to get himself together and regain his objectivity.<p>

Harry wasn't sure he'd ever regain his objectivity on this case, given that he'd just found out that his girlfriend was a thief and a killer. Rightly, he knew he should take himself off of the case – he was too emotionally involved. But he didn't want just anyone arresting Emmaline. He needed to be the one to do it – both to get back at her, and to protect her.

He was surprised when the message arrived, telling him to "meet me at the Reiner mansion tomorrow." He didn't need to ask who the sender was.

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><p>The storm Emmaline had seen upon leaving Beverly had come and gone, and another was arriving to take its place. The sky was a dark gray, the kind that makes everything dark and yet light at once, so that it is hard to keep your eyes open in the glare.<p>

Harry was waiting by the gate, his overcoat drawn around him tightly to ward off the chill. He kept looking around for Emmaline every two minutes, growing impatient and nervous.

She came silently and discreetly, so that he didn't see her until she was almost five feet away from him. Of course, he knew now that she was capable of that, and much more.

Neither said anything for a minute. Emmaline had the decency to look sorry and the gall to look unashamed.

"I won't make any excuses to you, Harry," she said suddenly. "I don't regret what I did."

"Why?" he asked, bursting out with the question that had been torturing him for the past few days.

She turned her face away; the one word had felt like a slap to the face. "You know why, Harry," she said in a low voice. "He killed my parents. He took away my life."

"No, Emma," he interjected, surprising her. "I know that. Why didn't you come to me when you found out? Why didn't you let me help you?"

She looked stricken. "I…this was something I had to do, Harry," she said, fumbling for words. "I've never been one of the 'good guys.' I needed my revenge."

"And now? Now what do you have? Now what will you do?"

She'd been asked the question enough times that she'd finally come up with an answer. "Go back," she said simply. "To where my parents and I lived, years ago. I always liked that town. Maybe I'll reopen their bar. I'll find something to do with my life." She cast a guilty look at him. "Will you be okay?"

He laughed hollowly. The sound cut straight to her heart. "Harry, I'm not sorry about what I did, but I am sorry about what I've done to you," she apologized sincerely. "I never wanted to hurt you." She took a tentative step closer. "I understand if you can't forgive what I've done. I just want you to know that I still care about you, very much, and I'm sorry that you've been pulled into all of this." Before he could think to stop her or push her away, she threw her arms around him, holding him tightly, trying to convey the love and caring she still had for him.

"If only things could have been different," he whispered. He brushed a kiss on her cheek and gently touched her face, then turned and walked away.

Emmaline thought she'd prepared herself for leaving Harry. She found, however, that watching him walk away was tearing her heart into raw little shreds, even though she knew that she had to let him go. She turned to leave as well, and caught sight of Dash standing at the end of the lane.

She quickly strode over to him. For a long time, they just regarded each other.

"Are you going to turn me in?" she asked bluntly. He smiled faintly. "No," he told her. "As far as I'm concerned, we never met today."

She echoed his ghost of a smile. "Thank you," she said, surprising him.

"Why?" he asked. "I didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did," she corrected him. "There was never any chance that you were going to convince me otherwise – I think you knew that, deep down – but you still tried to talk me out of it – killing my uncle. I'm grateful that you cared at least that much."

He nodded. "So where does this leave us?"

She looked away, casting her gaze back at her now-former home. "I suppose we're enemies," she responded. "I'm a killer, and you catch killers like me. The next time we meet, we won't be able to pretend otherwise. But…you said before that you wished we could be friends. I'd like that."

Dash shook his head, looking truly sorry. "No, you were right, Emmaline," he told her. "I don't think that can happen."

Looking sad, she nodded, accepting his decision, and walked away, briefly brushing her arm against his as she went past.

"Emmaline!" he called after her. She turned around.

"You know that the next time we meet, I will try to catch you."

She gave him a sad smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way," she said, then continued on her way.

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><p><strong>Whoo! Almost done. Just a little epilogue to write, and that will be massively cliffhanger-y. All to set up for the sequel that I will eventually-but-probably-not-immediately write. Since I've got two other sequels on the back burner as well: <em>The Sum of All Fears<em> and _Forward to Time Past_.**

**Hope you liked the chapter! Review, please.**

**Cheers,**

**~RAH**


	8. Epilogue: A Call for Vengeance, Reprise

****Dinky chapter, but hope you enjoy! Thanks for sticking with me to the end...or not, I suppose.****

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><p><strong>Epilogue: A Call for Vengeance (Reprise)<strong>

The Reiner mansion had been standing abandoned for a couple months now. Since the scandal that had precipitated its vacancy, no one came by to keep it in good condition, so it was beginning to fall into disrepair. The sprawling grounds, once neatly groomed, were completely grown over by grass and weeds; if one dared to look inside a window, the entire interior could be seen under its thick layer of dust.

A dark figure, hidden from the growing moonlight by the shadow of the tree it was perched in, overlooked the neglected mansion with an expression of passive indifference. It had never been his true home; his father had made sure of _that_…

He pulled out a worn photograph from a pouch. It was a picture taken for appearances' sake; it had neither the warmth nor the sense of real life that a candid photo did. It showed the late Carlson Reiner, impeccably dressed as usual, standing next to his niece, similarly neat and groomed. Both were dressed, coincidentally, in sharp, gray suits.

The watcher stared at the picture for a moment; then his eyes narrowed, and he crumpled it in a brief flash of anger.

Time to go to work.

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><p><strong>:D :D :D CLIFFHANGERS. I'm pretty good at them.<strong>

**I do plan to have a sequel. I'll give you the gist of it: Emmaline's been gone from Grenville for about a year; Dash and Harry are back to their crime-fighting shenanigans, though neither has forgotten her. Then a new villain starts raising all kinds of hell and wants Nightshade to show herself back in Grenville - it's all part of some kind of vendetta that I haven't really worked out all the way yet. Our mysterious figure at the end here will be pretty important, though he's not the _main_ main bad guy, per se. Violet might come back too...not totally sure. But there you go. I really want to title it _Break of Dawn_, but that just makes me think of Twilight, and, well...*shudder* Sorry if I offend any Twihards out there, but it's not my favorite book series. I derive more enjoyment from mocking it than I do from actually reading the books. TL;DR, if you have a good title, send it to me! Most of the time I try to have my titles have some significance to the story. _Midnight Rising_ was more a story of Emmaline going through her Fall, to speak about it in literary/biblical terms (as in Lucifer's fall from heaven in _Paradise Lost_, or Adam and Eve's fall from Eden in Genesis, which is a major literary theme). I want to call the sequel _Break of Dawn_ because it signifies a light on the horizon for her - she's not beyond saving.**

**Which leads me to discuss Emmaline's character a little, if you don't mind. (I actually like doing this, yes.) One of the things that made this story interesting to write for me was that she was a relatively complex character. She's the protagonist, yes, but that doesn't make her the "good guy." Dash is the good guy in this story, and so is Harry - they represent order and justice. Emmaline is a vigilante, someone who works outside of the law, but ostensibly on the side of justice. In terms of comics, she's most like Jason Todd - aka the second Robin, aka the Red Hood, aka one of the GREATEST AND MOST BADASS CHARACTERS IN THE WHOLE DCU - she's not afraid to use more extreme measures to get what she wants, and she's not afraid to break Batman's One Rule (aka Thou Shalt Not Kill). (In fact, I based her character off of the rendition of Jason Todd in_Batman: Under the Red Hood_.) It could be argued that Carlson Reiner deserved to die for the horrible things he'd done - and though I didn't get into it much in the story, he did do some _very_ bad things in his life, not least of which was killing his own brother and sister-in-law. It could also be argued that Emmaline had no right to take the law, and someone's life, into her own hands. I liked this story because although there were some distinct good guys, there was no clear bad guy. Emmaline is - rightly - avenging her family, but using extreme and illegal methods to go about it. Carlson Reiner is a very bad man who's hurt a lot of people, but it is unclear whether or not it is right that Emmaline kills him.**

**A lot of this conflict will come back to haunt Emmaline in the sequel. She'll have to deal with the fact that she's a murderer. She'll have to deal with the fact that she is not a wholly good person. I hope I'll convey her struggle well. So until then, I'll try to come up with something decent enough to post on FanFiction.**

**...No promises. ^_^'**

**Disclaimer: Dash Parr, Violet Parr, Edna Mode, the Incredibles, and anything else that came from the movie is (c) Disney/Pixar.**

**Emmaline Reiner, Harry Grayson, Grenville, Carlson Reiner, Valerie, and anything else that _didn't_ come from the movie is (c) moi. Please ask and credit me if you want to borrow my stuff.**

**Review, please! See you later, my lovelies.**

**Cheers,**

**~Rebel-Angel-Hero**


	9. A Quick Note

**A Quick Note**

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><p><strong>Hello! This is just a quick note to tell you all about a few minor edits I've made to <em>Midnight Rising<em>. I changed Dash's superhero moniker (because um wow I was not very imaginative when I named him, sorry about that DC) to Quickstep, and fixed a few other details, nothing that will change the story.**

**I also wanted to tell you all that yes, there is a sequel to this planned. It will be called _Break of Dawn_, and if I'm really lucky, I'll work on it during the summer, though since I'm basically incapable of working on less than five things at once, I may get rather distracted. I've got scattered parts of it written already, and a really basic outline…it's just coming up with the full outline and story that's difficult. The basic premise is that some time after the epilogue of _Midnight Rising_, someone starts gunning for Nightshade, forcing the police to find her and enlist her help. She agrees, on the condition that all criminal charges against her are dropped, and her parents' murder is formally attributed to her uncle. It will have lots of angst with Emmaline and Harry, some feels with Emmaline and Dash, and revelations that I hope won't be too obvious.**

**Thanks all for reading _Midnight Rising_, and I hope to reward you with a sequel this summer after I graduate!**

**Cheers,**

**~RAH**

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><p><strong>Looking back at my author's notes from the beginning of the prologue, I realize that I must retract my statements about Spider-Man being a whiny emo kid. In my defense, at the time I had never really read any of his comics, so I wasn't familiar with his personality in comics canon, only the movies (I'm not a big fan of Tobey MacGuire's portrayal, and am eagerly looking forward to what Andrew Garfield will do in <em>The Amazing Spider-Man<em>). There, I said it, and I give my apologies for blaspheming both Spider-Man and the name of comic book fans everywhere. Which means that I'll have to change my response to my friends' Batman vs. Spider-Man debate...while I'd put my money on Batman in a fight, I personally prefer Spider-Man, because Bruce Wayne is all brooding and vengeful and grimdark, and Peter Parker is a wisecracking nerd.**

**Not that any of you actually care about my opinions on Batman or Spider-Man.**


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